Chapter Twenty-One || To Meddle Behind a Beast

                                    

                                          
"THEY'RE STILL THERE!" I stilled before the door, listening for the erratic whispers exchanged amongst my maids.
                          
"Warn the stable boys!" It was Madame Dubois who said that. And she sounded...intrigued. "No one is to disturb them."
                          
"You think..." Aurore let out some strangled sound. "B-but his lordship, he would not—not in the hay!"
                          
"He is not one to be bothered by such a thing." I felt warmth rise to my ears. "If her ladyship is willing, I am sure they will not emerge until dawn."
                          
That was the extent of what I could bear. I slid the door open and strode into the room, aware of the disappointed sighs they breathed upon hearing my footsteps. "For the sake of sparing you further dismay, allow me to be clear," I said as crossed my arms and shifted my weight to one foot. "I am not willing to beckon him between my legs as to spent the night rolling in the hay alongside him."
                          
"Forgive us for saying such things." A blanket folded itself, concealing the shrill noises made by the maids. "It has been some time since his lordship had been in such a good mood. We assumed it had something to do with you."
                          
"A good mood?" I muttered, sudden annoyance spurring within my chest.
                          
"Yes...since he returned from dinner last night." Madame Dubois's hands pressed against my shoulder, unclasping the cloak from around me. "We have drawn a bath for you, if you will."
                          
I grumbled some dark oath beneath my breath. Certainly, that good mood of his had not lasted all that very long. His refusal to elaborate on our earlier subject grated against me, infuriating me needlessly. If he preferred not to broach the subject, it would have been wise for him to have remained silent rather than to tease me as one would taunt a dog with a morsel of food.
                          
With a scowl upon my face, I shed my boot, noting the dagger within it. The only thing that kept me from prodding him was the knowledge that he had not confiscated it from me. With a breath, I let the thoughts of his aggravating response simmer into a distant whisper and instead turned my attention to the dirtied trousers I wore.
                          
I trailed into the bathing room and stripped myself of all clothing. Once I eased into the tub, the steaming water met my flesh and chased the cold from my bones. My head tipped back and I loosened a soft groan.
                          
The scent of lavenders drifted in tendrils that left me blinded to any other smell. Fingers wove into my hair and scraped against my scalp with gentleness rivaling that of a mother. Water was poured over my head as they washed my hair and began to scrub the rest of my skin.
                          
"Your hands...my lady," Aurore whispered, drawing them from the water. I watched the strip of bandage wind itself around my fingers. "What happened?"
                          
"His lordship and I," I mumbled half-heartedly, concealing the sliver of annoyance beneath my words. "We went searching for his stallion."
                          
The maids suddenly fell silent. Any sound that had previously been made by their footsteps or their humming ceased. Madame Dubois was the first to make a noise. She cleared her throat and with great reluctance, asked, "Was his lordship pricked?"
                          
I sat up, alarmed by the sudden graveness of her voice. "Perhaps he was, perhaps he was not. His lordship is not particularly keen on sharing such events with me."
                          
She dismissed my remark altogether and instead called for one of the maids. The sound of ruffling skirts met my ears, an indicator of her standing. "Prepare a tonic and have it sent to his lordship."
                          
"Yes, Madame."
                          
I tested the flexibility of the wrappings spanning my hand and stood to my feet, emerging from the bath. "A tonic?"